Charlie is popping home for less than 12 hours for the quickest of visits. The reason? Writers on a New England Stage: Michael Lewis. Renowned author of Liar's Poker, Moneyball, and most recently (and the reason for his book tour) The Big Short: Inside the Doomsday Machine.
This highly regarded expose, a wildly popular character-rich and darkly humorous account of how the U.S. economy “was driven over the cliff” by a collection of professionals entrenched in the financial world, exposing today’s world of high finance – and financial collapse. Wall Street of the 1980s redux. 1929, too. In fact greed gobbled up fortunes in the tulipmania craze in mid-17th century Holland. Will they ever learn? Doubtful. IBers run amok. It'll happen again and again.
Now I am unsure why this trip is necessary. Charlie attends Harvard. Cambridge, or at the very least Boston, is home to curious intellectuals and authors hawking their wares. In fact, he is a member of Hasty Pudding who attracts celebs relentlessly. I'd have thought he'd be fêted there. Or parodied.
But I am a happy Mama. Very. It has been months since he was last at home. The dust bunnies under his maple chest of drawers next to his idled cello in its forest green hard plastic case were floating around unnoticed until I whooshed them into the Dust Buster yesterday. My prodigal son returns. But I am not complaining. Opposite. I am thrilled. Delighted. Readying the house and the fridge. Paninis and a red cabbage confetti slaw après theatre.
In less than an hour I leave for the train station to fetch him from a two hour trip up the rails from North Station. Even Bailey knows something exciting is happening. Her tail wags furiously at the mere mention of his name. This time next year Charlie will have been living in Hong Kong for some time. College and boarding school in Massachusetts along with the ubiquitous commuter fast train a distant memory.
An evening out tonight followed by a late night supper in our charming home. The summery weather warm enough to dine al fresco. A special taste treat awaits in my new red enameled sandwich grill. Gruyere and ham and a fresh Dijon. Mmmmm. Nums! And a sip of bubbly ... just because.
Cheers to the tracks bringing my darling son home ... if only for the briefest of visits.